Pain... Agony... Severe agony.
Was death supposed to hurt this bad? The general didn't know... he'd never died before. Or had he? Zayn opened his eyes to see... a person. A woman. She was standing above him, frowning slightly. With her scattered, slightly greying hair and wrinkles, she sure didn't look like any god he'd ever heard of. Where was he?
The general tried to move, but it was too much. A tremendously sharp pain ripped through his abdomen. Not being able to control it, a growl ripped from his throat.
"Stay still, for the love of gods," the woman ordered, not unkindly, "At least until you drink your potion."
A moment passed.
"Where am I?" Zayn groaned from his position.
"In short? Call it a hospice. Or an infirmary, I don't care which. You took a nasty wound to your stomach. It's the worst I've seen in a while," she said, walking away from his bedside and toward a cabinet. As she ruffled through it, Zayn took a second to try and recall what had happened. "This is the first you've been awake for more than five minutes."
His mind was black. For a moment, he couldn't remember anything. He didn't even recognize the building. But then... he remembered. He'd been stabbed by Redon, or at least he assumed Redon was the one who had thrown the dagger. With another minute's thought, he recollected what exactly he'd been doing when that happened. They were on their way to the Token fortress. They. His mind reeled... what had become of his group?
"The other men..." he said, sitting up quickly in panic. He grimaced at the pain before continuing.
"There were men with me," he repeated, "Where are they?"
"Now, I thought I told you to stay still," she said, turning back to him with a flask of liquid in her hand.
He disregarded the scolding.
"The men?" he asked.
"In the waiting room," she answered quickly, and stuck the flask in his palms, "Now, quit being impatient for a minute and drink this. It will help with the pain."
He raised the bottle, eyeing it skeptically. With a pointed look from the healer, he shut his eyes and downed the liquid. It tasted terrible. General Zayn had to press himself to actually swallow the bitter potion. As soon as it was down, he made a face.
"What did you expect?" she asked, humor now apparent on her face.
Zayn did not answer her. Instead, he posed another question for her to answer.
"What day is it?"
"It's the 13th of Harvest's Hand. You've been here for three weeks now," she replied, pulling a chair over to his bedside.
"Three weeks?!" Zayn said, disrupting his abdomen, "I've been unconscious for three weeks? But I was supposed to... to... I was supposed to be somewhere. Gods, I can't have been here that long. I had to... to..." he went one, eyes wide. His heart now beat rapidly in his chest. The healer sat down.
"Calm down, would you? Everything's alright."
"I'm sorry... I just... ugh," Zayn groaned, and then changed the subject, "Is there any way I can dismissed today?"
"Today?"
She was incredulous.
"Yes, today," he spoke, "I can't stay here long. Really. I really need to be able to leave as soon as humanly possible. I don't care about the pain; as long as I'm not going to die, everything will be fine. I will be fine."
"I swear, you men are so damned impatient," she huffed, "Let me check your stitches."
He laid back down. Once he was settled, she raised his tunic to view his injury. It was still not good, she noticed. Quietly, she began rinsing the wound with water in order to view it better. Once it was thoroughly cleaned, she got closer. As far as healing went, it had come a long way since the first day he'd been here. He no longer ran the risk of bleeding to death. However, the skin had not yet repaired itself. Even some of the muscle underneath was still torn from the knife.
"You look better," she finally said, "I'll give you that much."
"Good."
"Let me think on it," she paused, "In the meantime, I'll let your friends that you're awake. I think they should be here --they usually are in the mornings. They've been worried about you."
"Thanks," he mumbled as she left the room.
His eyes flicked back and forth as he waited. Now that he was fully aware of what was happening, he took time to observe his surroundings. As far as these type places went, he could tell that it was definitely not the nicest one he'd ever seen. As of right now, he was in a small room. The walls were wooden, and Zayn noticed that some of the boards were warped. He also made note of the small Garhemian flag laying on the undersized table beside him.
"At least I'm still in Garhemia," he muttered under his breath. "And alive," he added with a thought.
A minute later, the door burst open. The men in his group clamored in, all seemingly very impatient to see their general. Zayn watched as their faces lit up in relief. He hadn't realized how much of a toll his injury had had on them. With a small nod of his head, he motioned for them to gather at his bedside.
"You're awake, general," Dregar said first, and then smiled a little. It was one of the first the general had seen from the stern swordsman. "Well... awake and aware that is. Do you know who we are?"
"I do," he answered, still not remembering waking up before.
"Good," Dregar continued, "We were all worried. Not to mention, I am quiet relieved that we do not have to invade the Garhemian fortress without you. I was beginning to think that we were going to have to do it all ourselves. In fact, I went so far as to go ahead and gather the disguises."
"Disguises?"
"Yes."
"After what happened to me a while ago now, I'm not so sure if disguises are a good idea. The Tokenmaster seems to know we're here. Armor actually might be the better option here. I think we might should just enter wearing something to protect ourselves. Or am I mad? What do you think?" Zayn asked.
"Hmm, that is correct," Dregar agreed, "but do all of the Tokenmaster's soldiers know we're here? We may not be able to fool their leader... but it might be necessary to make it past some guards. When we fight the Tokenmaster, we should make sure we do so unscathed. Who knows of his capabilities?"
"Hmm, possibly. But surely there are guards everywhere. Once we get to the master of the fortress, we will need our armor. We will need to shed these disguises. How can we do that without drawing suspicion? I don't want to be left vulnerable at any point; that is for sure. We know what happened last time we left our bodies unguarded."
"Actually, I have been doing a lot during your time here in this infirmary. I, and the others, have seen the fortress with my own eyes... we've scouted around it and noted that there doesn't seem to be too many people there. In fact, it seems kind of... well, empty. At least, for a war fortress. You still get the occasional guard, messenger, things like that... they come and go."
"Hmm... I wonder if he sent all his men to Krenshai, then, if it looks that way. Of course, we can't guarantee that there aren't a hoard of soldiers inside."
"At this point, guarantee is something that we cannot hope for. There is no other way to find out what's in the fortress until we actually enter it. I have not done that yet."
The general nodded, and then spoke again.
"You said you have seen a few people... have you seen the emperor?"
"Ah, no, I don't think so," Dregar answered, "Of course, I have only seen paintings of Emperor Rus. I might have seen him... and not known it was him. But... I have seen something of note."
"What?"
"There is a back entrance to the fortress. The one that Ingred spoke of after he questioned the Token captain. Saying that... I have no idea where we will end up if we enter from the back. As far as those things go, it's a gamble. But I do have a guess."
"What is your guess, then?"
"I would say living quarters. Perhaps the Tokenmaster's. I've seen a few people enter through there... and none of them were soldiers. Hardly any of them were men, either. They seemed to be servants."
"Servants? Of what sort?"
"Of all sorts. By what I could tell, some were gardeners --some could've been cooks. There were a few maids, perhaps. And, uhh..." Dregar cleared his throat, "Other sorts of servants. Ones that I have a pretty damn good idea of what they are... considering the way that they were dressed."
"Like how?"
"Like hardly dressed at all," Ra chipped in, "Looked like whores. And a whole bunch of 'em, too. Apparently the Tokenmaster focuses on more than his job there..."
"Oh. I see."
Before more could be said, the door opened again, revealing the healer that had previously been in the room. She was looking down at a piece of parchment as she entered. As she stepped toward the bed, everyone moved out of her way. General Zayn awaited the verdict, which he hoped she had.
"Alright," she said, looking up, "I don't like letting patients leave looking like you do. But, if you're so insistent to go... then I can't keep you. But... if you get hurt, know that I told you so. Try, for the love of gods, to not go romping about. Else you might end up here again, and next time, you'll have to stay the whole visit. Maybe more than that depending on my mood that day. You have my word on that."
"Yes, ma'am," he answered, respectfully.
"Good," she began, and then proceeded to hand him a couple of bottles, "Here are some potions. They'll help heal the wound slightly... but I'm mainly giving them to you for pain. Drink them when you need to. And believe me... you'll need to."
Zayn grabbed the bottles and then tried handing her a few coins.
"No, no," she shook her hands, "Don't bother. Your friends already paid me in full."
Zayn's eyes went wide. For a second, he turned to look at them. Afterwards, he got to his feet and began grabbing his things. The healer left the room shortly after.
"I hope you did not think you had to pay for this," Zayn told them, "I'd be happy to reimburse you for the cost of my stay here."
"Ah, it's nothin'," Ra was the first to reply, "Without you, we might get ourselves into lots of trouble invadin' that fortress. The only thing we ask for is that you do your best to keep us alive there. We also hope you'll make sure it's safe with tha' wound an' all. We shouldn't be goin' in swords drawn until you're good enough to go."
"On my honor," Zayn answered with a curt nod. "We'll wait a few days before heading in. But I need to see the place."
Nothing else was said as Zayn slipped on his armor. No one questioned his decision yet to wear the protective plate, but Dregar reminded him that the disguises were well in their position... given that they were needed.
"I'll have to have that look at the fortress with my own eyes to determine whether or not we should wear those; how far away is it from here? Or do you know?" Zayn asked the swordsman.
Dregar nodded.
"From here, it will take a few hours to reach the fortress. At least, by my loose calculation. If we move fast, we might get there sooner. All in all, it isn't too far away from here. The longest part will be actually getting into it. The time it will take for that depends on whether or not we use armor or the disguises."
"Or both..."
"What do you mean?" Dregar asked.
"As I mentioned earlier, we may need to use armor and disguises. Disguises to get in... armor to fight whoever leads the Tokens. We will surely need protection against this Erodyne," Zayn paused, "Hmm... there is no way to guarantee that we will have a safe place to make the switch though. Is there any way to wear the disguises on top of our armor?"
"I don't know," the knight answered, "Possibly. After all, traveler's cloaks are included in our disguises. They would do well to cover up the bulky shoulders. However, if anyone gets a close look at us, it will not go unnoticed that something is amiss."
"A risk I am willing to take..." the general headed for the door, "Come, men. Let us hope that not too many get that close of a look."
Ra nodded at this and then spoke.
"Aye. Let us hope that."